"This year is almost over."
The high school girl in glasses cupped a hot drink between both hands and gazed at the snow-covered street outside.
They were sitting in the kind of cafe found on almost any corner in Tokyo. Across from her, Satoru took a sip of black coffee. Heat and the rich weight of the beans filled his mouth with a familiar, uncomplicated bitterness.
Whenever he came somewhere like this, he usually ordered a simple latte. Not because he particularly loved lattes, but because they suited the atmosphere and he saw no reason to look any further.
Satoru had never cared for the fashionable drinks crowded with syrups, cream, and whatever else happened to be popular. In the smaller parts of his life, he was stubbornly old-fashioned. A latte was one of the few cafe drinks he knew, so a latte was what he ordered.
The same thing had happened with cigarettes and beer. He had tried several brands, settled on his favorites, then begun ordering them in bulk from overseas and waiting impatiently for customs to release them.
As a gamer, Satoru never stopped looking for new strategies. He followed every balance update and patch, always ready to become a slave to the latest meta.
In the real world, however, he was painfully simple. His music library was filled with old hits, and his bed was covered by the same faded black-and-white checkered sheets he had owned for years.
He rarely visited bars or clubs to indulge in the supposed freedom of adult life. Given an empty evening, he would rather play Dou Dizhu online with friends on the other side of the world. A cook at a Chinese restaurant had taught him the game years ago, which made it another old habit he saw no reason to abandon.
There was very little glamour in Satoru's life.
Ken Suzuki probably still remembered the day his nephew brought a girl home and imagined Satoru as some restless ladies' man. Ken might have lost his own chance to cause trouble in Kyoto, but surely his nephew would restore the Suzuki family's honor.
In Ken's imagination, Satoru drifted between neon-lit bars with a glass of Glenfiddich in one hand while beautiful women competed for his attention.
Reality had been cruel to that dream.
The only bar Satoru frequented was an online card table. The drink in his hand was usually a cheap imported beer, and the glamorous female avatars across from him could just as easily belong to someone's aunt or grandfather.
Their most intimate exchanges consisted of:
"Double."
"Pass."
"Super Double."
"Nice hand."
All things considered, the Suzuki family line might already be doomed.
"New Year's, huh?"
Satoru set down his white porcelain cup.
"Are you going home for a visit?"
"Probably. I don't get many chances during the rest of the year."
Shino blinked behind her glasses. Although it was Sunday, she was wearing her winter school uniform. The short skirt and black thermal tights made even the standard outfit feel bright and youthful.
A simple scarf circled her pale neck, with her soft hair falling loosely over it. Shino had never cared for heavy makeup. What little she wore only made her look younger, caught somewhere between childhood and the woman she would soon become.
"What about you? Are you going to Kyoto to visit Uncle Ken for New Year's?"
"Probably not right away. Maybe January or February, once the year has settled down."
Satoru thought for a moment.
"They seem to be planning the wedding already."
"That's wonderful. Misa-nee is so beautiful."
There was open admiration in Shino's voice. She looked up to Misa Wakaba's mature, gentle manner.
"Well... yeah. I suppose she is."
Satoru's answer was evasive.
Ken's message had technically been a wedding announcement, but every line read more like a suicide note. The thought left Satoru faintly depressed, so he changed the subject.
"You're moving up a year too, aren't you? Second year or third?"
"Second year," Shino answered.
"That's a good age."
Coming from a man who had dropped out halfway through high school, the words carried a touch of envy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Satoru still wanted to believe school life resembled the rosy youth dramas on television.
At seventeen or eighteen, he had dreamed about dating a quiet, bookish girl. Unfortunately, he had spent those years stoking a furnace at work, so the dream had remained exactly that.
"Well?" Shino asked, suddenly straightening in her seat. "What do you think? Do you like it? This uniform is new."
She stretched just enough to display the outfit properly.
"It looks good. Really good," Satoru replied with complete honesty. "I used to dream about having a cute girlfriend who wore a school uniform."
"And now?" Shino asked with a grin.
"Now... I think I'm a little old for that fantasy."
He gave her an easy smile.
The opening closed before Shino could make anything of it, leaving her quietly disappointed. She had found a school-uniform photo magazine at his apartment and deliberately worn this outfit on her day off.
Shino Asada had truly emerged from the shadow of her past.
Once she began seeing herself differently, she discovered that connecting with the world was not nearly as difficult as she had believed. She enjoyed school now. She had friends to gossip about celebrities with and other girls willing to trade advice about romance.
Endou, the false friend she had finally cut out of her life, had not accepted the rejection quietly.
One afternoon, Endou brought along several dyed-haired boys she knew from an arcade, intending to frighten Shino into submission.
Instead, they ran into Satoru.
He had come to take Shino on a day trip to the neighboring city, driving Hidemura Kurosaki's black Dodge Charger SRT8. Dressed in worn jeans and an old jacket, Satoru stepped out, leaned against the door, lit a cigarette, and stared into the distance.
The entire sequence looked practiced.
The contrast was devastating. On one side stood an adult beside a gleaming American muscle car. On the other were a handful of wannabe delinquents who had arrived on secondhand electric scooters.
There were few faster ways for one man to lose confidence in front of another.
The boys had brought plenty of aggression for a supposedly helpless girl. One look at the car, however, punctured all of it.
Satoru collected Shino without incident.
Before climbing back into the car, he frowned and glanced toward the group. He did nothing else, but the dyed-haired boys still felt as though they had survived something dangerous.
Endou and her friends never bothered Shino again.
When Shino eventually learned what had happened, she did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
Satoru, meanwhile, had no idea what anyone was talking about.
He might have looked like a silent, dangerous man brooding over a cigarette, but his thoughts had been trapped inside the Dou Dizhu match he had lost earlier that day.
He had been playing as one of the Farmers. For reasons he still could not explain, he had called a Super Double, only to be demolished by a Spring and a Bomb so thoroughly that he could barely remember his own name.
His teammate had responded with admirable restraint and typed a single verdict:
"Moron."
As for the profound look Satoru had cast at the dyed-haired boys, his actual thought had been much simpler.
Those wannabe punks look like they stepped out of the last century.
There had been so many coincidences.
When Shino looked back, Satoru's sudden arrival, his entry into the tournament, and the way he had saved her all felt like accidents that had somehow lined up perfectly.
He had never behaved like a proper knight. Most of the time, he was closer to a blunt instrument someone had hurled into the scene.
Then again...
Shino had never been a beautiful, noble princess either.
Satoru probably had not noticed any of it. To him, he had only been helping a friend.
From Shino's side, however, a man carrying both gun and sword had stormed into her life, defeated the enemy she feared, torn through the knot around her heart, and protected her without ever seeming to realize what he was doing.
That many coincidences felt deeply unfair to a girl.
Satoru had told her that the past could be left behind and that she deserved to enjoy her life and whatever future waited ahead.
Now Shino thought about that dense man almost every night before she fell asleep. At first glance, he seemed painfully easy to understand. Look closer, and there were too many thoughts he refused to share.
He appeared strong and dependable, yet sometimes, when he looked up at the sky, she caught a loneliness in his eyes that she could not explain.
Before she knew it, the bond between Sinon and Samuro in GGO had followed them into the real world.
He called her Shino with his usual lack of caution. She, hiding a little embarrassment of her own, had begun calling him Satoru-kun.
In that respect, Shino was grateful he was such a blockhead.
He never read too much into anything.
Now that her life had filled with color again, Shino might even have discovered a new enemy to defeat.
Her name was Saki Kurosaki.
Shino watched the younger girl creep in from the cafe entrance. Saki's small frame and careful steps gave her all the menace of a child pretending to be a thief. Her brown hair appeared natural, her eyes shone with mischief, and a sly smile covered her flawless face.
When Saki noticed Shino watching, she raised a finger to her lips.
Still a child.
Shino said nothing and returned to her drink.
"New Year's really is nice," Satoru murmured, still lamenting the passage of time and completely unaware of the little thief approaching from behind.
Until...
"Hey, Satoru!"
Saki reached him without being noticed. Her plan was to slip both ice-cold hands down the back of his collar and make him jump.
It was an embarrassingly childish trick. She had even left her hands exposed to the winter air to make sure they were cold enough.
But the moment something touched his collar, Satoru changed.
He spun around and caught both of Saki's wrists with perfect precision. His lean hands locked around them like clamps.
"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"
Saki's face crumpled.
Satoru frowned and looked down at his collar. Only after confirming that nothing was wrong did he release her.
"Since when do you move that fast...? No, forget that. It hurts!"
Saki rubbed her reddened wrists and glared at him.
"That was awful. You have to buy me something good now."
"You're the one who tried to play a trick on me."
"I don't care."
She had no intention of backing down.
Then she met his eyes, and every trace of defiance vanished.
Satoru's face was perfectly still.
His eyes were cold and sharp as a blade.
...
"All right. Sit down, and I'll order you something."
Satoru smiled without warning, once again the indulgent older brother she knew.
"What do you want?"
Saki hesitated before giving a small nod and taking the seat beside Shino.
"Oh, this cafe is running a promotion," Shino said. She had seen Saki and Satoru bicker often enough that the exchange did not strike her as unusual. "Anyone with an Augma account can join. Clear the minigame, and today's recommended set meal is free."
"Really? That sounds good."
Satoru smoothed the wrinkles from his clothes and sat down.
He looked different today. Instead of his usual worn clothes, he wore a well-made, British-cut trench coat over a white wool turtleneck that covered his neck.
For once, he looked like a man his own age.
He was handsome when he made even a little effort, and Shino was quietly pleased to see it.
"Does everyone have an Augma?" she asked.
"I don't..."
Saki gave Satoru a complicated look, then forced a smile for Shino.
"They're everywhere lately. You love games, Saki. Haven't you tried one?"
"My family is invested heavily in VR. These AR devices came out of nowhere, and my father says they're trying to turn the whole market upside down."
"AR does have a few advantages over VR," Shino admitted.
"Your father will have to respond sooner or later," Satoru said.
After a little more idle conversation, he took out the ring-shaped device.
"Let's try the game Shino mentioned. It sounds interesting. How about we clear it this afternoon?"
"Saki, do you want to join us?" Shino asked. "We can borrow an Augma from the staff."
...
"Saki?"
"Oh. I... I'll pass. I'm not used to them."
Saki came back to herself and waved one hand.
"All right. I'll still win that set meal for you."
Satoru smiled at her with the same easy care as always. A moment later, he and Shino connected to the game and began moving their fingers through empty air.
Saki watched Satoru disappear into the AR display.
An unexpected fear tightened inside her.
The look she had seen in his eyes moments ago had dragged an ugly memory back to the surface.
Two or three years earlier, when she was still Argo, she had confronted Yurnero over his seizure of the Divine Dragons Alliance's guild assets.
By then, he had already chosen to cut himself off from everyone, including Sheeta.
His eyes had looked exactly the same.
Like an iceberg drifting alone across a winter sea.
Lonely.
Resolute.
After Argo and Yurnero parted ways in an Aincrad tavern, she did not see him again for some time.
When they finally met again, he had already become the Sword Saint, unmatched in that floating castle and scarred by a painful farewell.
And now...
For a single moment, that shadow from the past had returned.
What was it warning her about?
Saki stared at Satoru's profile, the face she had grown so familiar with over the last two or three years.